


Limit of Love

by Lippskinn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Conditions, Missing Scene, Nudity, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lippskinn/pseuds/Lippskinn
Summary: A sick Sirius arrives at Remus' house after the Triwizard Tournament...
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Limit of Love

The bear-like dog trotted down a narrow road in the Yorkshire Dales. It had crossed miles of barren land and had finally reached the last stretch of the journey. Tired and hungry, it dragged itself up to the stone cottage on top of the hill. The place looked uninhabited and resembled more of a sheep shelter than a house; roof tiles were strewn across the land and the door was boarded up with planks of thick wood. As the dog reached the door, it barked, and as the door opened, a familiar face welcomed it. Once inside, the dog turned into a man.

The cottage looked slightly bigger on the inside. It had only one room with a tiny kitchen. The bathroom was separated from the rest of the space by a curtain to grant a bit of privacy. Everything was tidy yet worn; most things were held in place by duct tape, and Sirius noticed the claw and bite marks on the furniture. Remus apologized repeatedly for the state of his house, but Sirius was simply glad to have a roof above his head; anything was better than the cold cave in the Highlands.

The journey South had quite literally eaten him up. The famished human before Remus was much skinnier than the man he had hugged in the Shrieking Shack (if that was even possible). Sirius looked beyond exhausted, yet desperate to tell Remus what had happened at the Triwizard Tournament. Something about Harry, Voldemort, Mad-Eye Moody and a dead student. He had such trouble focusing, however, that none of it made sense. 

When Remus offered Sirius to sit down, he almost collapsed on the couch, stretched out his limbs, closed his eyes, heaved a sigh and fell asleep on the spot. He had mustered his last bit of energy to reach the house. Remus stroked his head and cheek and put a strand of hair back behind his ear. He watched Sirius’ chest lift and lower. The old prison uniform hung so loosely on his body that Remus could see every single rib protrude from under the tightly stretched, scaly skin covered in scabs and dirt. A whiff of dried faeces, wet dog and putrid breath surrounded him. His head fell back onto the couch’s backrest, and his mouth gaped wide open. The sounds he made reminded Remus of a dementor drawing closer; the rattling and laboured breath.

Remus figured he wouldn’t wake up anytime soon and wrapped him in a blanket for the night. He gently lifted Sirius’ arms, which were about the size of walking sticks, and tugged the blanket under them. Despite their feather-light weight, the joins were stiff, and they were difficult to move. Remus feared he would break them if he moved them too much. He tried to take off the boots as well; completely removed the laces, widened them and then carefully pulled on them as the full sole came off with it. There were no socks left. His feet were bare and covered in black blisters and lesions. Remus gagged.

He carried what was left of the boots with two fingers, threw them in a bin bag, washed his hands and face, took a deep breath, and checked on Sirius again. He looked like an old man on his deathbed; cheeks hollow, skin stretched tightly over the face, thin nose and sunken eyes. If Remus hadn’t been notified that Sirius was going to visit, he would not have recognized him. He’d been desperate to reconnect with his best friend but felt slightly repulsed by the state of him and at the same time worried he wouldn’t make the night.

So, Remus found himself tiptoeing around him all night. Always alarmed as soon as he made a sound; checked his breath, checked his pulse, watched him closely and added as many blankets as possible. An electric jolt ripped through his intestines every time Sirius coughed and sighed in his sleep keeping him awake until the early morning hours.

That morning, Sirius woke up early with Remus still resting on his shoulder. He stretched, gave Remus a kiss on his forehead, and got up to make some tea for the pair. Finally, Remus was woken by the sound of the kettle whistling, pushed off the pile of blankets, and joined Sirius, who was reading yesterday’s newspaper, at the table. Remus had a slightly lopsided gait and slumped down on the chair as he got to the table. He gave Sirius a wry smile and thanked him as he poured a cup.

“It’s the first time you’re staying for breakfast”, he joked moving in his chair visibly in pain.

“Just ignore my groaning. It will go away eventually,” he added seeing the worried look on Sirius’ face, “did you sleep well?”

“It was the most comfortable in a long while”, Sirius smirked and eyed Remus over the edge of his cup. He made a sound like a suppressed laugh and put his cup down. Remus noticed he’d been making the same sound throughout the night. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

When Remus got the letter from Dumbledore that Sirius was on the way to his home, there was no doubt about letting him stay whatsoever. Their last meeting, a year ago, had ended abruptly and they had not had time to talk. Now, that he was Sirius was awake, Remus hoped to learn a bit more about the events.

“I was waiting for an article in the paper but all they wrote was that Cedric died in the tournament”, said Remus pointing at the paper Sirius was reading, “they dismissed it as an accident.”

“The Prophet has always been a pile of rubbish”, scoffed Sirius, “that Barnabas Cuffe has his nose so deep in Fudge’s bum, he can smell what Fudge had for breakfast.”

“I’m sure Fudge will do anything in his power to lull the public. They cannot afford to admit that Voldemort has returned. Not after they let you escape.” 

“Frankly, I couldn’t care less. Let the whole ship go down and Fudge with it,” Sirius took another sip from his mug and set it down a little too hard. Something seemed to fall shut behind Sirius’ eyes. He stared at the cup in front of him for a couple of seconds, licked his lips and then seemed to snap out of it again. “Fudge only cares about a good article in the papers. He’d never do what’s right if it gave him a bad rep.”

“Do you think it will be like last time?”

Sirius seemed to ponder his answer. He scratched his beard, took another sip from his cup, waited a long time to swallow and said, “No.”

“Did Dumbledore tell you anything?”

“He sent me here. It’s not like I’ll be much of help, anyway, is it?”

Remus felt the strong urge to hug Sirius but all that came out of his mouth was, “I think you should rest. Take a shower, eat something, sleep. Dumbledore won’t be here before midnight and he’ll be happy to know I didn’t let you starve.”

“Do you still keep the chocolate in your nightstand?”

“There’s a limit to love, “Remus got up and put his cup in the sink, “I need to go to town. You have the whole place to yourself. Enjoy yourself. Not too much.”

“This is the happiest I’ve been in years.”

Remus smiled and a distinctive crease formed on his forehead. He turned away from Sirius, breathed out and in and limped over to the wardrobe where he’d hung a suit the night before. Sirius watched him take off his pyjamas. Nothing he hadn’t seen before and yet he couldn’t help but stare. His chest was covered in pink and white scar tissue and his body looked like someone who had worked heavy, manual labour all his life.

“Since when are you wearing suits?”, asked Sirius, “I thought suits were for posh people?”

“Since I am a registered werewolf and might have lied to my landlord about a steady income.”

“Is that your business in town?”

Remus froze, dropped his pants and then swiftly pulled them up, “I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”

“A pair of new boots. Mine magically vanished overnight.”

“What boots?”, laughed Lupin, grabbed a heavy key and opened the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

Sirius watched Remus limp down the hill to the main road. As far as he could tell, it must have been an hour on foot to the closest town. Once Remus had turned left and disappeared behind a stone wall, Sirius cleaned the kitchen table and sat down on a chair. Although he’d only just woken up, he felt overpowering tiredness and his arms felt heavy. He was torn between hunger and sleep and couldn’t decide if he wanted to raid the fridge or crawl under a blanket. He stared down on his feet and picked at the remaining fabric of his socks. With one tug, the cotton crumbled and he removed the tatters. His ankles were swollen and he noticed how much his feet were hurting from the journey. Every step felt like walking on eggshells. He rubbed his legs and decided that a bath would probably be best while Remus was gone.

Sirius poured himself a scorching hot bath and steam filled the whole house. He slipped out of his prison uniform and carefully sank into the water. It was as if layers of dirt were peeling off his body and he suddenly felt feather-light. He closed his eyes, leaned back and enjoyed the warmth. Every inch of his body ached as the water turned muddy. Soon the overbearing tiredness returned, he rested his head on the edge and let himself soak in the water. Sleep had won.

The next thing he knew was a wet and frantic Remus rubbing his chest with a towel. He was lying naked on the floor in front of the bathtub, his back propped against Remus legs whose jacket was dripping wet.

“How long have you been in there? I was away for three hours.”

Sirius shivered. The last thing he remembered, he’d poured himself a nice warm bath. Remus had dropped the groceries by the door when he hadn’t received a reply from Sirius. He’d dragged him out of the cold bathwater by his arms and put him on the floor to check if he was still alive.

“You could have drowned!”

Remus aggressively dried the rest of Sirius’ body, wrapped him in a blanket and leaned him against the tub.

“I fell asleep”, murmured Sirius drowsily.

“The water is ice cold”, Remus put a finger in the muddy water and then removed the strands of wet hair from Sirius’ face, “you could have died.” Remus pulled himself up by the tub and pulled the plug. He gave Sirius the towel to cover himself and cleaned out the remaining dirt in the tub. He then walked over to the door where he’d dropped the groceries, collected them, placed them on the kitchen table and took off his wet jacket. “I’ll make us some tea and then we’ll start another attempt at making you look presentable. You look like the last survivor of a hunger strike.”

Remus gave Sirius a hand to pull him up; the towel slipped off him, and Sirius stood naked and shivering in front of Remus. He had a nasty scar on his shoulder, which Remus immediately identified as a werewolf bite. Remus shook his head, bit his lip and said, “Sit down.” He helped Sirius sit down on the edge of the tub, took the showerhead, turned on the water and felt the temperature with his hand. “Lean back, I’ll hold you.” Remus had rolled up his sleeves not to get wet and held Sirius with one arm while rinsing his hair with his other free hand. Sirius was still shivering, he had closed his eyes and let the water run over his head. The hair was matted and brittle; steaks washed down the drain as Remus tried to untangle them.

“We might have to try some of James’ hair brews or you’ll have to let me cut it off”, suggested Remus.

“There’s a limit to love, Remus.”

[Limit to Love](https://lippskinn.tumblr.com/post/631787232494272512/limit-to-love)


End file.
